


Panzerstärke

by WolfVenom



Series: R6S Drabbles [25]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Being Walked In On, Choking, Coitus Interruptus, Crack, Cute, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Drabble, Embarrassment, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate Erections, Innuendo, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Rating: NC17, Sexual Frustration, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Sweet, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 02:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18326741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfVenom/pseuds/WolfVenom
Summary: Newly appointed as the fourth GIGN member of Rainbow Six, Rook stumbles his way through first meetings by furiously trying 'not' to gawk at all the hot ladies and even hotter men he'll be working with.But it's hard. He hasn't even seen Blitz' face in the few months they've known each other, but his libido just won't get the memo...





	Panzerstärke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mi723](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mi723/gifts), [Ki_ru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ki_ru/gifts).



> Super old drabble I intended to gift to Mirae! I brainstormed the idea after Blitz' elite had just been leaked, and dear Kiru helped me flesh out the final bits! The first chapter is pretty tame pertaining to adult content, but it is mature due to suggestive themes, dirty talk, and the likes. I'll work on posting the second, more nasty chapter later tonight! Thank you to everyone in the Six'd discord server for the kind words and motivation.
> 
> *Yes, I know Blitz is a star student and fluently bilingual in canon but liberties must be taken for fluff okay. 
> 
> Important Announcement:  
> This week, the one year anniversary of the Humboldt Broncos bus crash will occur. I lost four of my very good friends in the tragedy and entered a terrible period in my life. I thought I could handle it, so I opened commissions to not only help raise money for their funerals, but to support myself through the pain. And then, in June afterwards, my beloved emotional support dog Honey passed away on her first birthday after a hard battle with her spay complications, and overlapped intestines. The surgery couldn't save her. As such I've not been at my top game for quite some time. However, as I mentioned, with the anniversary coming up, I know my friends nor pup would want me mourning them forever, and to instead work on things which make me happy, so I can bring other people the same joy I felt when by their side! So, as resolution, I'm aiming to finish up those long-awaited commissions, and be better to myself!  
> Thank you all for your understanding, and continuous support.  
> Love, Kaji.

Rook is sure he’s dying.

 

He is sure of it because he knows _damn_ well it’s not natural to harbour a crush strong enough to increase masturbation rates for this long over a man he _hasn’t even seen the face of._ It’s crazy. It’s unheard of and Rook was not prepared to have his midlife crisis in his twenties, let alone at _work._

 

So he bites his tongue, wanks as often as he can under the sheets at night and prays his phase goes away as soon as possible.

 

It doesn’t.

 

In fact, not only does it fail to disappear - it blows up tenfold in no more than a week. A week spent with a hand on Blitz’ shoulder during missions, hearing him laugh whenever he popped a stupid joke, listening to him hum beneath his mask, seeing muscles bulge beneath his clothes whenever he lifted his shield - and the mystery was just a whole ‘nother level entirely. Rook didn’t even know what he looked like. He’s never been off-duty at the same time as Blitz, has only known him for a few months at best and hardly even sees the man in personal settings unlike Twitch and Mute, and only identifies him by his cheery voice, white sweater and those big arms he’d _oh so love to get held down by and be pounded through the headboard six ways to Sunday--_

 

Twitch smacks him across the face with an exasperated sigh and Rook shakes out of it, clearing his throat and awkwardly shuffling around in his seat, boner and all. She seems blissfully unaware, thank God, but it’s only a matter of time before she glances down and thinks that he’s been thinking undecently about _her_ and _oh Jesus save me._

 

She keeps talking regardless, “As I was saying, Julien. I’m thinking you should move your trust exercises into Rainbow to work with our new unit. After all, we’re all working together as a team now, it’s not just GIGN recruits bumbling around anymore, and we need to know we have each other’s backs, yeah?” Her fork scrapes against her plate as she cleans up the rest of her eggs, chewing respectfully before continuing.

 

“It would be a good way to break the ice, too. I’m not saying you should go around making friends by asking them to shoot you, but it’s an excuse to talk to the others. I’m fairly certain everyone here knows enough English, just use that,” she observes, finishing her juice and setting her dishes to the side of the table, “you could try with the British guys, or hit it up with the cute blonde from the SEALS, or those Germans look crazy enough to try it.”

 

Rook shakes his head and muddles about the table, ignoring his food to allow stress and anxieties to course freely throughout his whole body. “I don’t know, Emma. I mean, yeah, I’ll do the exercises with the others, but I’d rather just let likeminded people find me, not the other way around. I don’t think I’ll like everyone here.”

 

Twitch scoffs. “Just try it. Look, some of them are coming over right now.” A grin sweeps across her face and she pointedly looks over Rook’s shoulder, prompting him to join her watch and _oh my god not today please._

 

He turns back around like a bullet and suddenly his food seems so delicious, he can’t help but get lost in the flavours, the texture, how positively magnificent the yellowed eggs combine with the burnt toast and double stack of undercooked pancakes. And oh, how quaint, he has a glass of milk to go with it all! How interesting.

 

A gaggle of GSG9 operators filter through the canteen, dressed and ready for squad training lead by the petite IQ, followed by an excited looking Jäger, in front of a scruffy Bandit, and an ever so big and so handsome Blitz trailing behind. Rook’s mouth is abruptly very dry.

 

Twitch is looking at him funny, so Rook stares right back and shoves a whole pancake into his mouth, leaving no room to spare.

 

Because while she wonders incredulously what is going on with him in that moment, Rook is definitely _not_ thinking about how Blitz’ muscles strain against his oversized hoodie, and the way his eyes crinkle with a smile behind the mask when Buck shouts a hello from across the room, and how he stands so big and so tall compared to nearly everyone else. He's gentle and he's giant and he'd be perfect.

 

But Twitch isn't done with him, and he has a duty as a friend and teammate to be respectful towards her, so he shuffles around a little bit so his dick doesn't strain so painfully and openly to the world before tuning out his object of affection, ignoring Blitz and his team exit the building, and focusing back on Emma.

 

They talk until they've both digested their breakfast, and training begins around oh-nine-hundred, all of which gives him ample time to calm down his libido and act like a normal human being.

 

\---

 

It gets worse yet again.

 

Doc schedule’s their routine physicals before a select squadron is sent on a mission together, a force which consists of Montagne, Rook, Ash, Blackbeard, and, of course, the devil himself. Blitz doesn’t have any qualms about any of the decisions, simply laughs to himself and says in that ever so gentle voice, “glad to have a good team like that covering my mistakes.”

 

Which should not be allowed, for starters, because Blitz happens to be a _formidable_ soldier and Rook admires the fact that he somehow manages to turn every dire situation into a heartfelt victory one way or another, laughing all the way through thick and thin.

 

The Frenchman remembers the last mission they had together, the one which made Rook realize just how bad he had it for the German. He was, as always, Blitz’ pointman, one hand braced on his right shoulder, covered by both the large flash shield and the warm body before him. They communicated simply by that one point of contact, Rook would squeeze right by the base of his neck and tap with his thumb or pinkie depending on if enemy movement was to the left or right, by that point Blitz would have brought up his shield in either direction and brace Rook as he poked out for the takedown.

 

The memory makes Rook sigh, thoughts adrift as he scans his briefing report, stuck like glue to the man of his dreams. Rook honestly thought he would have developed the hots for Hibana, or maybe even Ash or Castle, but alas here he lay, drowning in emotions over a near anonymous guy he met not even a year ago--

 

“Hey, Cookie,”

 

The name startles him out of his stupor and he jolts upright, nearly dropping the stack of papers onto the desk as a hand brushes against the back of his neck.

 

It’s obviously Blitz who stands behind him, judging by the sound of his voice, but it’s decidedly _not_ Blitz when he turns around and is met with a set of blinding white teeth smiling at him and blue eyes which actually _do_ wrinkle in happiness and trail down into laughter lines around his lips. At this point Rook knows he must have not heard whatever Blitz said next, judging by how his smile falters as he stares dumbly, so the Frenchman shakes himself down and looks his companion up and down, taking in his new attire.

 

“I said, how do you like my new gear?” Blitz repeated, showing off his bulk of a shield with pride. Rook swallowed hard, having immense trouble making eye contact and not focusing on those kissable lips or how much more slim he looked in the tight top he wore.

 

He feels the inevitable twitch in his groin and shudders, “I uh, I think it’s great! Uh huh!” Comes the stammer.

 

If it was even possible, Blitz beams wider than before and does a mock salute, propping his shield against the wall to his right while Rook observes the marble statue before him. The German brushes invisible lint off his clothes and takes a seat on the corner of the desk Rook was sitting at, pulling a report towards himself to peer over while Rook struggles in agony in silence. If a drop of sweat fell from his face, he was sure it would be audible in the room.

 

Thankfully, Blitz seems unaware of his crisis, simply flips through papers and folders whilst oblivious to the erection growing just inches in front of him.

 

But something suddenly strikes Rook, and he glances up at his friend (could he even call Blitz his friend? Oh well.) with an inquisitive look. “Why’d you call me ‘Cookie’?” he asks, all sexual thoughts banished for the moment in curiosity.

 

Blitz shrugs, not making eye contact right away, “I was going to call you ‘Rookie’, but I’m aware you’re probably one of the most seasoned soldiers I know and wouldn’t appreciate that. So I just thought to myself, ‘what is something sweet that rhymes with Rookie?’, and there you have it. I'm not _that_ good at English yet.”

 

Rook raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question his antics. “Something sweet?”

 

That seems to startle a faint blush from Blitz, who rubs the back of his neck absently, hands bare of the standard tactical gloves and long fingers looking regal in the shitty lamp light. His hand wear resides on the stained wood beneath him, next to his propped up knee. Rook tries to ignore the way Blitz' pants sculpt those powerful legs, and _Jesus_ his thighs look molded out of marble with how muscle-packed they are, _imagine_ _sinking your fingers into those,_ but his eyes are downcast and notice every little detail on the way. _Especially the--_

 

“Blitz? Your fly. It’s, um, open.”

 

A cheeky smile. The man holds no shame in his mistake and shrugs with a small laugh, “Oh, so it is. Thanks for pointing that out, imagine if I deployed like this. Damn.”

 

While Rook is busy conjuring images in his head of what Blitz looks like _down there_ , said German shuffles about on the table so both legs are raised slightly, pointed a bit more towards Rook, so that each side of the zipper come to close easier, and tugs up the fly in one swift motion that Rook was _definitely_ not observing like a hawk.

 

It’s then that he noticed how intimately they were situated, Rook leaning back tense in a chair while Blitz straddles the desk and is nearly sprawled in his lap with his hands at his crotch as he fumbles with every other zipper he can find to ensure they are all closed. And the knob to the nearly empty office room _turns._

 

Rook acts before he thinks. Which is never good, as Doc has told him before, but the only good idea that comes to mind at the time was to grab Blitz by the legs and yank him down, first onto his lap, and then shove him under the desk to hide the would-be scandalous sight. From the view of the door, it would have looked more than indecent.

 

Blitz squawks on the way down, but shuts up when he too takes heed of the now opened door as Thatcher pokes his head into the office, looking quizzical. “The doc almost has everyone cleared for takeoff, ‘n he wants everyone going out to meet before boarding. You seen Blitz?” He asks. Rook violently shakes his head, heart thumping in his chest as he feels Blitz’ breath hitch against his knee where he hides him.

 

Thatcher doesn’t seem impressed with his answer, but nods and backs out of the room anyways, shutting the door behind him with a click. Both operators let out their held breaths simultaneously, and christ almighty did Blitz not know how close he was?

 

With warm breath permeating his trousers, Rook nearly peeps when he feels his arousal spike. He hopes to God Blitz doesn’t notice, wants to reach down and pull him up before he sees the obvious bulge in his pants and is about to do so with a stammered excuse and an apology when Rook hears the beginnings of a gentle chuckle from below.

 

“ _Mein süßer_ , this is kind of compromising, isn't it?” Blitz giggles, eyes pointedly staring straight at Rook, but that wonderful five o'clock shadow steals the show, gracing his sturdy jaw as it too begins to descend _very down_ and if he keeps doing that he's going to--

 

If more than his monkey brain held the reins at the time, Rook would have felt extremely embarrassed about the wanton moan escaping his mouth then. But Blitz, _goddamn_ _Blitz_ , grins cheekily once again and his usual warm eyes darken with unmistakable lust, hand fondling the chin strap of his helmet to knock the offending article off his head to a wonderful cascade of amber _fluff_ which appears to have been absolutely ruffled with the action, almost luring Rook's hands in and _oh look, they're tangled in the soft mess already. Heaven really is a place on earth--_

 

“Julien. _Breathe_ , I'm not going anywhere,” comes an amused remark from near his groin, and Rook snaps out of his reverie violently, realizing how quickly he must have been panting at a mere _fantasy._ “At least, not until I've swallowed your cock first. I _do_ have a briefing to get to.”

 

Rook's heart literally stops. But his hands still grip Blitz' hair tightly. 

 

Blitz’ hand unzips his faded jeans and swiftly removes the layers barricading him from his prize, and the Frenchman gulps thickly.

 

_Oh boy…_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter!:  
> Personal/Art: Zer0Kaji  
> NSFW/Spam: NimiMono
> 
> (I no longer use tumblr. I will attempt to finish all remaining requests in my inbox there, but otherwise please contact me at the above addresses.)
> 
> Also, I deferred to google to find a cutesy German term of endearment, as my German vocabulary isn't that good yet, so please correct me if I have translated "My Sweet" wrong! Thank you!!


End file.
